Harry Potter and the Goblet of Black Fire
by brownhairedlass
Summary: How different would Harry's life be if he had gone to live with Sirius after his third year at Hogwarts? How will it affect Harry to be raised by someone who actually cares about him?


_Hey guys. I've been sitting on this for months and I thought I'd put it up here to see what kind of feedback I'll get. I wrote this last year after rereading all seven books. Reading the books as an adult made me look at them differently and I was able to connect with the characters on a much deeper level than when I was younger. Rereading the books made me even more devastated by the fact that Harry never got to live with Sirius so I wanted to try to rewrite the last four books to explore how things would have changed had Sirius been cleared immediately and had Harry gone to live with him. I don't know how far I'll get but I'm sure it'll be fun._

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 **Chapter One**

 **Number Twelve Grimmauld Place**

The sun had been gone for several hours. Most of the London city noise had quieted down, and Harry Potter was sitting at a large oak dinner table, books and parchment spread out in front of him, trying to concentrate on doing his homework. But Harry found himself unable to do so, and he kept staring at the kitchen door, which had been left slightly ajar, as if hoping for someone to come and interrupt him.

This summer had been quite different from the last two he had spent in-between school years. For the first time Harry found himself really enjoying the summer holidays. Although he had enjoyed his stay with the Weasleys between his first and second year, and his stay in The Leaky Cauldron last summer, none of those compared to the feeling of living in his new home.

After a month Harry still wasn't used to calling number twelve, Grimmauld Place his home, although Sirius had made it very clear that their stay would only be temporary, until he managed to purchase a new place for them. Grimmauld place was where Sirius had grown up, and as the last living member of the House of Black this house now belonged to Sirius. His godfather hadn't said it outright but Harry knew that he would have preferred to live on the streets, disguised as a dog rather than here, and Harry knew that Sirius endured it for his sake.

Sirius hadn't been particularly fond of his family, something they both had in common.

Harry had learned a lot about Sirius's family from their late night conversations in the kitchen, while drinking butterbear or hot chocolate. It had been slightly awkward at first since the two of them hadn't really known each other that well, but over the course of the summer Harry had gotten so used to having his godfather around that it sometimes felt like they had been living together for years.

Harry, having decided to give up on writing his potions essay tonight closed his book and pushed it as far away from himself as possible. When he had been living with the Dursleys, finding the motivation to do his homework hadn't been difficult. Back then doing it without his aunt and uncle finding out what he was up to had been the hard part. He had spent many sleepless nights, lying on his bed with a flashlight and one of his heavy schoolbooks, while trying not to spill ink on his sheets while writing his essays. Homework had been something forbidden, something to look forward to because life with the Dursleys hadn't provided him with other opportunities to enjoy himself.

Now that Harry no longer had the Dursleys to worry about he could do what he wanted. He could go for a walk around the neighbourhood, go down to the kitchen in the middle of the night to get himself a snack, he no longer had to stay in his bedroom to do homework, and he could sleep in for as long as he wanted in the mornings. But best of all he had someone to talk to, and someone who cared to listen to what he had to say. Of course he could always send an owl to Ron or Hermione, he knew they'd listen to him, but he had never had someone like Sirius before, someone like a real parent. The last four weeks had left Harry feeling better than he had ever felt before.

At the same time as Harry looked down at his wristwatch and saw that it was half past one in the morning, Sirius entered the kitchen.

Harry looked up at his godfather, who was smiling at him.

"Being productive, I see," Sirius said and sat down in the chair across from Harry's.

"Not really," Harry admitted while glancing at the discarded potions book next to Sirius.

Sirius had changed a lot since their first meeting. The Sirius who was sitting in front of Harry now looked much younger and healthier than the man he had first met in the shrieking shack less than two months ago. His face was no longer gaunt and now looked much fuller, and his long, black hair was now neatly cut and cleaned - from the looks of it Sirius had just gotten out of the shower. His hair was damp and slicked back.

"Well you've still got more than a month to finish it," Sirius said cheerfully. "I'm afraid I won't be much help with potions," he added and his smile disappeared.

Harry knew the topic of potions had reminded him of Snape, Harry's least favourite teacher who now seemed to hate him even more than he did before Sirius was cleared. Snape and Sirius had hated each other since their first year at Hogwarts, Sirius had explained as he told Harry all about his own days at Hogwarts, where he and Harry's father, James, along with Remus Lupin, who had visited them a few times since the holidays started, (Lupin had refused Sirius's offer to stay with them), and Peter Pettigrew (who was now locked up in Azkaban), had been best friends.

It was because of Snape that Sirius had almost been given the dementor's kiss after Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Lupin and Pettigrew emerged from the secret tunnel under the whomping willow. Snape had been waiting for them by the tree, ready to catch them. There was no saying what Snape would have done if Cornelius Fudge hadn't shown up and seen Pettigrew, chained to Ron and Lupin, with his own eyes. Dumbledore had followed close behind.

After they explained what had happened, and after a very awkward attempt at a formal apology by Fudge, Sirius was allowed to go free, and Fudge had relieved them of a screaming Pettigrew.

Breakfast in the great hall the next morning had been interesting - to say the least. The news that Sirius Black had been cleared of all charges and that Peter Pettigrew had been brought to Azkaban had been on the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ , and everyone had been talking about it. The students had broken out into applause when Dumbledore had informed them that the dementors had left the school for good, and Harry had been beside himself with joy. The man who betrayed his parents was caught, he had a godfather who was innocent, who had offered him to live with him, which meant that he could finally leave the Dursleys, and he didn't have to worry about the dementors anymore. Harry hadn't thought anything could go wrong.

Unfortunately it did. Snape "let slip" to his students that Lupin was a werewolf, and Lupin resigned the very same day. The injustice of it had made Harry's blood boil, but as Lupin had pointed out one couldn't have everything.

Sirius and Harry had spent the last month cleaning up the house, while they had both been adjusting to their newfound freedom, Sirius from Azkaban and Harry from the Dursleys. Harry could still remember the look on his aunt's and uncle's faces when he met them at King's Cross and informed them that he wasn't coming home with them this year. Uncle Vernon had looked angry, but Harry hadn't been stupid enough to think that his uncle had been angry with him for leaving them, no he had simply been angry with Harry for not having told him of his departure before he got into the car and drove all the way to London to pick him up. Harry hadn't meant to let his uncle take such a long trip for nothing, the thought to tell the Dursleys there'd been a change of plans simply hadn't crossed his mind. But he couldn't bring himself to feel remorseful, and he still found himself chuckling whenever he recalled the look on his aunt and uncle's faces when he had introduced them to Sirius. He knew they'd recognised him from the muggle news, and for a moment they'd been too scared to move or say anything, as if Sirius was going to murder them both then and there.

After some very awkward goodbyes the Dursleys had left. It had been among the happiest moments of Harry's life.

Sirius summoned a pair of cold butter beers to the table and opened both of them with a lazy wave of his wand.

"So," said Sirius after taking a small sip from his bottle. "You still haven't decided what you want to do for your birthday?"

Harry was startled by the question. He hadn't thought Sirius would mention his birthday again. He hadn't known what to say last week when Sirius had asked him. The Dursleys had never celebrated his birthday, sure he had gotten a couple of rubbish presents throughout the years but they had never done anything else - no parties, birthday cakes or trips to the zoo like they had done for Dudley. Harry wasn't sure he even knew how one should celebrate his birthday, let alone how a _wizard_ should celebrate his birthday. He hadn't given it much thought.

"I don't know," Harry decided to answer.

Sirius started to chuckle as if he had remembered something funny. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I remember your first birthday party," he said. "We were all there; James, Lily, me and Remus and —"

Sirius paused, and Harry could guess what he had been about to say.

"Wormtail was there," he stated.

Sirius nodded. "Anyway," he said, "That's when I gave you your first broomstick, it was only a toy broomstick of course, but you were zooming around the house, giggling like mad, and Lily found it so amusing that she didn't even get angry when you accidentally knocked over a crystal flower vase."

Harry didn't know what to say. He had no memories from before he came to live with the Dursleys, unless you counted the green light from Voldemort's curse. He had no memories of living with his parents. He wondered how different his life had been, if he had grown up with his parents and had been brought up like a proper wizard. So many things would have been different. He would be living with his parents, he wouldn't be famous for something he didn't remember, Sirius would never have been brought to Azkaban and maybe Harry would have had a completely normal life without the darkest wizard of all time on his tail.

"What happened after that?" Harry decided to ask.

"James repaired it with a wave of his wand, you continued to zoom around the house, and your cat got so scared that it hid under the couch," Sirius said, smiling fondly at the memory.

"We had a cat?" Harry asked. No one had ever told him they had a cat before.

His godfather nodded. "It was a handsome ginger cat, Lily got it in her sixth year of Hogwarts, I don't know what happened to it, perhaps it escaped." Sirius's smile had faded.

Harry just nodded. He knew what Sirius meant. Perhaps the cat escaped before the house was destroyed, or perhaps it perished that night along with his parents.

Sirius cleared his throat. "If you want anything special for your birthday just let me know," he said and got up. When he had reached the door he turned to look at Harry.

"It'd be best not to stay up too late, Harry." And his godfather left the kitchen.

It was two o'clock in the morning before Harry gathered up his homework and left the kitchen. He had a long way up several flights of stairs to his bedroom. It was much bigger than the one he had occupied at Privet Drive. Harry didn't care about the size of the bedroom though, he didn't spend much time in there when he wasn't sleeping, preferring to spend it with Sirius. He had spent enough time alone in his bedroom at the Dursleys', trying to avoid his relatives.

He dumped the big pile of parchment and books onto his desk in the corner of the room. Harry always did his homework in the kitchen but he never left his things lying around after finishing up. It was an old habit, while living with the Dursleys he never left any of his belongings lying around, afraid that his aunt and uncle would throw them out or that Dudley would get his hands on them. There was also the fact that his aunt and uncle would use any excuse to punish him, even for something as trivial as leaving a pencil or a notebook lying around the house. Harry always made sure to pick up after himself, and although he knew Sirius wouldn't mind the mess Harry thought it best to be on his best behaviour.

When Harry had put on his pyjamas and climbed into bed he stared at Hedwig's empty cage, which was placed in top of his dresser. Harry had sent her out with a letter last night, and she hadn't returned yet.

He wondered when he would see his two best friends again. He knew that it would be a lot easier to ask _Sirius_ to visit The Burrow than to ask Uncle Vernon. He wondered if he should ask Sirius to spend his birthday with Ron and Hermione, but he couldn't invite them to Grimmauld Place, even after a month of tidying up the place it was still a mess. Harry didn't mind it that much but it was no place to bring guests yet. He didn't want to subject his friends to the constant shouting of Walburga Black's portrait. Walburga Black was Sirius's mother, who had died about nine years ago and no one had lived in the house until Sirius and Harry had arrived, except for Kreacher, the Black family's old house elf, who refused to take orders from Sirius.

Sirius had tried to take his mother's portrait down but it wouldn't budge. After a week of trying he had given up, convinced that his mother had cast a permanent sticking charm on the back of the canvas. The best thing they could do was to be as quiet as possible when moving around the house, but if you made too much noise Mrs. Black would wake up and start shouting all over again. It was always the same insults, and they were always directed at Sirius. Although Sirius had told him they didn't bother him Harry wasn't so sure if he believed his godfather. He was sure Sirius would be much happier when they found somewhere else to live.

Harry decided a birthday party at Grimmauld Place was out of the question. Perhaps he could take a look around muggle London. He had never really explored other places than Diagon Alley, having never been there before Hagrid took him to buy his school supplies on his 11th birthday. He was already in London so that shouldn't be too difficult.

Harry still hadn't decided how he wanted to celebrate his birthday when sleep claimed him.


End file.
